Текст книги "Doctor Who- Legacy of the Daleks"

Автор книги: John Peel

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

8

Transformations

Susan tried to move, but her body was working far too slowly. She watched, more stunned than horrified, as Lockwood and his technicians were caught in the lethal crossfire from the Dalek guns. The men screamed, burned and fell lifeless and smoking to the metal floor.

The Dalek guns trained on her next, and she faced her own extermination.

‘You will come with us,’ one of the Daleks grated.’ Immediately!’

Relief washed over her, as she realised that she had been reprieved, for whatever reason the Daleks might have. Wincing, and still having trouble catching her breath, she managed to stagger to her feet.

‘Are you damaged?’ the Dalek inquired coldly.

‘No,’ she assured it. Daleks despised weakness, and it might change its mind about allowing her to live if it thought her below even their standard for prisoners. ‘I just need to catch my breath.’

The Dalek regarded her. Its body swivelled to face away from the vestibule, though its eye never wavered from her. ‘Humans are inefficient and inferior. You will follow me or die.’ The eye swung about to face the direction in which the Dalek was moving. Susan limped along behind it, knowing she’d be cut down instantly if she attempted anything else.

Where were these Daleks from? All of the Daleks on Earth had been destroyed – so how were these alive? Susan could only hope that shed learn the answers by pretending to cooperate with them, but a cold fear knotted her stomach.

What could the Daleks possibly want with her?

Tomlin sat in the shadow of a shattered wall, breathing heavily, and shivering because he was soaked to the skin. But at least he was no longer being pursued. The enemy soldiers had simply stopped following him after a while. He’d continued to flee, but then become aware of something odd. The sounds of battle had died away.

His professional interest had finally overcome his fear, and he had slowly made his way back to the battle zone. He found dozens of bodies of his men, and some of London’s troops, but of the main bulk of London’s army there was no sign. It didn’t make any sense to him at first, so he’d followed the line of retreat of London’s men, and stumbled eventually across the truth.

In the distance from where he sat, he could make out flares of light and screams of tenon There was only one possible explanation for this – the Dalek guns were being used. And not to back him up. This was a separate thrust, and, as he sat in the ruins, he finally began to work it all out.

He hadn’t been honoured to lead the initial attack on the enemy – he’d been sacrificed as a decoy. Craddock and Barlow must have led the real attack, once his troops had drawn the bulk of London’s men.

Haldoran had betrayed him.

Tomlin sat alone in the cold, wet darkness, lost in his thoughts. All of his life he had gladly served the House of Haldoran with unswerving loyalty, And this was his reward? To be sacrificed as a pawn in Haldoran’s unlimited ambitions? Was that his only value – as cannon fodder, and not as a friend and a confidant?

His whole world had come crashing down about his feet. Everything he’d striven for and believed in was nothing more than the mud he walked in. His entire purpose in life had been decimated. He had been betrayed.

It had to be the work of that smug bastard, Estro. The man had somehow poisoned the mind of Haldoran against him. Something had to be done to remove the poison. But what?

In the distance, lights flashed and men died. Oblivious, Tomlin sat and considered his own future.

Barlow was more than happy with the way the war was progressing. As he’d anticipated, London was pulling his surviving troops back towards the city. Craddock’s men had flanked them and attacked, speeding the retreat to a rout. He and his men continued to press on slowly. There was no rush at this point – in fact, the more time the enemy had to witness the advance, the more terrified they were likely to get, which could only help. From time to time, his troops came across stragglers, or units left to try to delay them. In each case, the men with the Dalek guns annihilated all opposition.

Barlow had no real desire to kill more men than was necessary, so he had issued strict orders that anyone who wished to surrender should be allowed to do so. They had already collected some twenty broken men that way. His purpose was to take over London, not to destroy it, and the more men who came over rather than fought, the better.

‘Message from base, sir,’ the radio operator reported.

Twisting in his seat, Barlow nodded. ‘Lord Haldoran needs a progress report?’ he asked.

‘No, sir, it’s not the official channel. It’s your private line.’

That was odd. Barlow gestured for the headset, which the operator handed over. ‘Barlow here,’ he said.

‘Sir, pardon me for disturbing you.’ It was Arkwright, his aide. ‘I know you’re busy, but I thought you’d want to know this immediately. We caught a man going though your private files about half an hour ago. He was… hurt during capture, but we’ve been able to determine he’s an agent working for Craddock.’

Craddock? ‘Are you sure about that?’ he asked sharply.

‘Quite sure, sir,’ Arkwright answered. ‘He was paid to try to access your private files and copy potentially damaging information to be used against you. He’s currently undergoing medical assistance to keep him alive. Any further instructions?’

Barlow considered for a moment. ‘No. Make sure he stays as fit as can be expected, for the moment. I’ll want to speak with him when I get back. Were any files copied or stolen?’

‘No, sir. Security caught him before he got too far.’

‘Understood. Thank you.’ He handed the headset back to the operator, and then sank into his seat, deep in thought.

Craddock had paid a man to ransack his files while he was out? Why would the soldier do that? Perhaps to gain some leverage in case Barlow decided to turn on him? It was plausible – for anyone other than Craddock. Craddock was a blunt man, who preferred to face a foe and fight him. Blackmail was hardly his weapon of choice.

And, besides that, he wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t hire a man who was incompetent enough to be caught so simply.

Barlow had to strongly consider the possibility that Craddock was the one being framed here. That some other player in this game had hired a thief, claiming to be from Craddock, in order to set the two generals at each other’s throat. That made a lot more sense. Who? Short answer: anyone who stood to gain if he and Craddock were to distrust each other. Obvious suspects? Estro sprang to mind. The adviser was a devious and dangerous man, and he had already expressed a desire to remove Craddock from the picture. Barlow had tried to protect the older soldier: was this move one of Estro’s aimed at removing Barlow’s support of Craddock? It did make sense.

It also left an obvious way of checking things.

Barlow turned to the radio operator. ‘Get through to General Craddock personally,’ he instructed. ‘I want to speak to him immediately.’

It took a couple of minutes, but eventually Barlow was handed the headset. ‘Craddock?’ he inquired.

‘Yes.’ The reply was hard and noncommittal.

‘I’d like to suggest that you have a man check your offices,’ Barlow informed him. ‘I suspect that you’ll find a thief in there raiding your files, and claiming to have been sent by me.’

‘Ah.’ There was a faint chuckle at the other end of the line. ‘I see you must have had someone similar in your office. My men discovered the thief just a few moments ago. Someone appears to be attempting to drive a wedge between us, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Indeed.’ Barlow was relieved to discover his instincts had been correct. ‘My own theory is that it’s Estro. He overheard our earlier conversation in the hallway.’

There was a sharp expelling of breath from the other end of the radio. ‘And?’ Craddock prompted.

‘I believed I had persuaded him not to harm you,’ Barlow explained. ‘It’s starting to look as though I might have been wrong. You’d better watch your back very carefully.’

‘Understood,’ Craddock answered. ‘I’m… a trifle disappointed that you didn’t mention this to me before.’

‘I didn’t see any need before,’ Barlow answered candidly with this new move, ‘I do. It appears that we may both be in rather a precarious position.’

Craddock considered the idea for a moment. ‘And what do you think we should do about it?’

Barlow smiled. ‘I think we should act as though we believe what we’re supposed to have believed,’ he suggested. ‘We should act very coldly and even hostilely towards one another. Let Estro think he’s broken us apart. Then, when he makes his next move, we can strike against him together!

‘It seems sound to me,’ Craddock agreed. ‘Very well, from this moment on, we’re not speaking. Out.’

Barlow handed back the headset, amused. If Estro was indeed behind this attempt to split him and Craddock, he’d just made a very serious mistake…

Donna was furious with herself for being captured so easily, intrigued by what was going on and very, very worried about what was going to happen to them, the three emotions chasing each other wildly. The Doctor and David might just be fortunate enough to be simply executed. There was absolutely no chance of that fate for her. Haldoran wouldn’t waste her in that manner.

She glanced at David. He seemed just as worried, though she suspected it was his missing wife that occupied his mind the most. Even as she thought this, David looked at the guard leading them to the runabout. He seemed about to speak, and then thought better of it.

‘They’ve captured her,’ the Doctor said gently ‘Don’t be afraid that you’d be betraying her by asking.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ David demanded, furiously. You might just have told them what they want to know!’

‘I saw female footprints on the rise where we were captured,’ the Doctor explained. ‘Surrounded by guard prints. That was why I was so sure we were about to be captured. If they could sneak up on Susan, they could sneak up on us, too.’

‘The Peace Officer?’ the guard captain asked. ‘Yes, we’ve got her. In fact, you’ll be meeting her any moment. I’ve sent one of my men to collect her. We might as well get rid of all of the vermin at once.’

David sighed in relief, and Donna felt glad for him, even as she realised that it didn’t improve their situation at all. The Doctor smiled slightly, as if there was something he knew that was still hidden from everyone else. He enjoyed being a bit mysterious, so it might be nothing more than affectation. Then again…

The runabout they were led to was an electric van, with the back isolated from the front. Before they could be herded inside, another guard came running over, his face twisted with worry.

‘She’s escaped,’ he reported.

‘What?’ The captain was furious. ‘You imbecile! How could she escape?’

‘She’s very bright,’ the Doctor offered helpfully.

The captain threw him a disgusted look, and then rounded on the hapless guard. ‘Search for her everywhere. The perimeter alarms haven’t sounded, so she must still be on the grounds somewhere. Move!’

The guard saluted, and then bolted, presumably relieved he had escaped punishment – for the time being.

‘My commiserations,’ the Doctor murmured. ‘It’s always terribly embarrassing to have to report that you’ve lost a prisoner.’

‘Well, I’m not losing any more,’ the captain snarled. ‘Into the runabout now, or I start breaking legs.’

Since it was absolutely clear that he meant what he was saying, Donna obeyed with alacrity. David and the Doctor were just behind her, and then the door was slammed and locked.

‘Some people don’t take setbacks very well,’ the Doctor opined, sitting cross‐legged on the floor and ignoring the seats around the blank walls.

‘I’m glad she got away,’ David said fervently.

‘She’s not gone far,’ the Doctor informed him. ‘I know Susan, and I’m willing to bet she’s down in DA‐17 right now. It’s where I’d be if I were free. We have to know what’s going on down there. It’s the most important thing in your world right now.’

Donna glared at him. ‘I rather think the war Haldoran has caused is the most important thing,’ she snapped. ‘I know this isn’t your home, Doctor, but it is mine.’

‘That war,’ he replied darkly, ‘is nothing compared to whatever’s happening in DA‐17. These idiots are feeding power to it, and power and the Daleks mix rather combustibly.’

David obviously shared the Doctor’s concerns. ‘What do you think they think they’re doing?’ he asked.

‘I’ve no idea yet,’ the Doctor admitted. He shook slightly as the runabout started up. ‘But it appears that we’re on our way to find out the answers.’

Shaking her head in despair, Donna said, ‘They’re planning on interrogating us, not the other way around!’

The Doctor grinned, apparently unconcerned. ‘Yes, but what they ask us will tell me what they’re interested in – and, by extension, what they think we’re after. It should be simple to piece together their plans.’

David grunted. ‘And we’ll only be inside Haldoran’s fortress, under guard and possibly under torture. The knowledge of what they’re doing will, I’m sure, be a great relief to us.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ the Doctor answered. ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something.’

‘Well, the faster you do it the better,’ Donna informed him. ‘Look, you two are likely to only get killed in all of this. I won’t be so lucky.’

‘Lucky?’ The Doctor raised an eyebrow, ‘Ah – the daughter of Haldoran’s archenemy. You d be a valuable hostage. Do you think he’ll recognise you?’

Donna raised her eyes to heaven in silent plea. ‘Doctor, you may not live to be interrogated by Haldoran. I won’t be any kind of hostage. I couldn’t be that lucky. And, yes, he’s definitely going to recognise me. I haven’t changed that much since we were married.’

At least she had the satisfaction of seeing the Doctor speechless for once.

Estro whistled cheerfully to himself as he walked down the corridor towards Haldoran’s war office. The decor was hardly to his taste – a trifle too plastic and metal, and with rather gaudy baubles scattered everywhere – but there was the air of success about the place. His plans were proceeding perfectly. A small cart followed him, carrying the promised forty Dalek guns in their crates.

When he entered the war room, Haldoran looked up from the map he was playing with, adjusting the positions of his forces. ‘Estro,’ he called and glanced at the cart. ‘Are those the promised armaments?’

‘Naturally.’ Estro stood aside, and let the cart park itself. ‘All charged, and ready for distribution.’

Haldoran nodded, as he came around the table. ‘One of my men came to fetch you shortly after you left,’ he said slowly. ‘You weren’t in your room.’

‘Of course not,’ Estro agreed smoothly. ‘I was fetching your weapons. After all, I’m sure you searched my room and already knew that they weren’t hidden there.’

‘Of course I did,’ Haldoran said, not bothering to lie. ‘Your wardrobe was also missing.’

‘Really?’ Estro allowed his eyebrows to rise. ‘How sad. Some people will steal anything, won’t they?’

‘Is it still missing?’ Haldoran asked.

Estro inclined his head slightly. ‘No, I rather think the thief has seen the error of his ways and returned it to me.’ He smiled innocently.

‘I am glad to hear that,’ Haldoran said. ‘Around here, we discourage thieves by cutting off their hands.’

‘A splendid idea,’ Estro approved. ‘I am, therefore, surprised to see that Portney still retains both of his.’ He was pleased with the look of venom and fear he was treated to from the clerk.

‘He may yet lose them,’ Haldoran mused. ‘And yours are not so firm that they won’t come off with a little effort.’

‘Mine?’ Estro feigned complete innocence. ‘I’m giving you things, not taking them.’

‘And that’s the sole reason you still have both gloved extremities,’ Haldoran assured him. ‘Because you are taking something of mine. A few gigajoules of power?’

‘Ah!’ It had taken the clod long enough to figure that out. ‘You mean my power lines.’

‘Yes.’ Haldoran leaned forward, attempting to look menacing. ‘That is precisely what I do mean I’ve been having… words with Murdock, who for some reason seemed to think he wasn’t supposed to tell me about your little secret. But Portney discovered it.’

‘Set a thief to catch a thief?’ Estro asked, amused. ‘Most droll.’

‘You have thirty seconds to explain your actions to my satisfaction,’ Haldoran snarled.

How crude the man was. ‘I need only five seconds.’ He gestured at the Dalek crates. ‘There is your answer.’

Haldoran glanced at the crates. ‘You’re getting those guns from this DA‐17 thing?’ he asked. ‘That’s where the power’s going?’

‘Yes,’ Estro lied. ‘Dalek guns from a Dalek Artefact. How else do you think I managed to obtain them?’ Since there was no way for him to know the answer to that question, there was no way he could possibly know that this was a complete fabrication.

Musing, the Lord stepped around the table and looked at the guns. ‘You’re using the power you’re stealing to obtain those guns?’

‘Exactly,’ Estro agreed. ‘The power I’m borrowing is being used to an end you desire,’ He spread his hands. ‘And, once the Artefact is completely opened, there may well be even more weapons inside it. So far, we’ve only penetrated the first level. Who knows how many more there might be?’

Haldoran considered the point, an old, deep‐seated fear gnawing at him. ‘But the Peace Officers say it’s dangerous to meddle with the Dalek Artefacts,’ he protested.

‘Dangerous!’ Estro scoffed. ‘The only danger is to them. You’ve got your hands on the weapons you need to make you master of this entire planet! Of course they’ll claim it’s dangerous! They want this power for themselves. It’s why they’ve excluded you from their investigations for this long. They’ve been secretly searching for precisely what I have found. If they had these weapons in their hands, do you think they’d be braying “peace”? No, they’d be seizing control with them, just as you’re doing! Only we’ve beaten them to it.’

‘More weapons…’ Haldoran mused, rubbing his chin. Decisively, he nodded. ‘You’re right, Estro. The work must continue. We must have whatever is down there.’

‘And so you shall,’ Estro lied.

‘But why didn’t you tell his Lordship?’ Portney demanded, realising his little scheme to depose Estro had gone awry.

If he was worth the sport, Estro would have killed him. But where was the joy in murdering a worm?

‘Because I wasn’t certain it would work,’ Estro said gently. ‘I’m pleased to report that it is working, and the next batch of Dalek guns will be ready by morning. Besides…’ he smiled at Haldoran, ‘I need to keep some secrets in order to remain valuable. If I’d told you initially that the guns were coming from a Dalek Artefact, you might well have protested, knowing no better. Or you might have tried to cut me out of the loop, thinking you didn’t need me.’

‘What makes you so sure that I won’t do that now?’ Haldoran asked, grinning.

The fool. He was wasting his time posturing. ‘Because you’ve… spoken to Murdock. I’m sure he didn’t tell you very much before he died. And nobody else involved will tell you any more. You won’t get anything further out of DA‐17 without my help, and you must know that.’

Haldoran, of course, did. He’d simply been hoping that his threat would worry his adviser. He nodded curtly. ‘So – I get my weapons. But I’m curious – just what do you get out of all of this?’

It had taken him long enough to ask the obvious. ‘Power,’ Estro replied, knowing this lie would be believable. ‘I have the weapons, but not the men to use them. We need one another. What I want when all of this is over is my own Domain – under your rule, of course. As your right‐hand man, I’m sure little would be beyond my grasp.’

Haldoran smiled, obviously relieved. The story was logical, and it appealed to the man’s own baser instincts. ‘I can see you and I are very alike,’ he said.

Estro smiled, tightly. After all, he’d be gone long before Haldoran would discover the truth. ‘It would appear so,’ he agreed blithely. ‘Now, if you’re happy, can we continue with the war?’

‘By all means,’ Haldoran agreed, rubbing his hands together. ‘Especially since I’m winning it…’

The Doctor stared at Donna, and she was pleased to see him confused for once. ‘This… marriage of yours,’ he murmured. ‘Would that have anything to do with the private areas of your life I wasn’t supposed to poke into?’ he inquired.

‘Yes,’ Donna admitted, feeling herself flush even now.

David looked at him. ‘You didn’t know about it?’ he asked. ‘It’s common knowledge,’ Then, realising who he was saying this in front of, he blushed as well. ‘I mean…’ he said, stumbling to a halt.

‘I’ve only been on this planet a day,’ the Doctor complained. ‘I really haven’t had the time to collect all the local gossip.’

With a great sigh, Donna steeled herself. ‘Well, since you’re bound to get it out of him anyway…’ she said. It still hurt terribly to think about it. ‘I was seventeen, and innocent enough to still believe in love. My father needed peace with Haldoran, so he arranged for me to marry him.’ She shuddered at the memories this resurrected. ‘The man’s a monster,’ she said simply ‘Pure ego, with nothing to control it. Anything he wants, he gets. Anything. What I wanted was irrelevant. At first… well, like I said. I was naive, and I believed in love. Oh, I knew he didn’t love me, and I didn’t know him. But I thought we’d come to love one another, and everything would be fine. Yeah. Right.

‘Lust is what consumes him. He enjoyed the thought that he was using me, corrupting me. If I protested, I was punished.’ She could still sometimes feel the pain, even after all this time. ‘I still have the scars across my shoulders.’

David looked very uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t know any of this,’ he protested.

‘Of course you didn’t,’ Donna agreed coldly. ‘Nobody was interested in hearing my side of the story. Not even my father. He was the worst of them all, believing the lies and the deceits, without ever asking me what really happened.’

‘If this is too painful…’ the Doctor said gently.

‘No,’ Donna insisted. ‘Oh, it’s painful all right. But what scares the hell out of me is that I’m going back to it. You have to understand my fears, Doctor, because I want you to kill me if we can’t escape.’

He glanced at her sharply. ‘Retreat into death isn’t the answer.’

‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she snarled. ‘You’ve never been through what I have. Haldoran is a monster, and he enjoys his power. Especially his power over others.’ Donna calmed her emotions as much as she could. ‘Haldoran forced me to do things, horrible things. Then, when he discovered that I was barren, he threw me away like a piece of trash.’

‘The fault wasn’t yours,’ the Doctor said gently, wiping at the tears she wasn’t even aware were on her cheeks.

‘Yes, it was!’ she yelled. ‘You don’t understand!’

‘No,’ he agreed amicably. ‘I don’t.’

‘A society attempting to rebuild itself, Doctor, values children above everything else,’ said David, wearily. ‘Being barren isn’t a crime, but it’s a terrible stigma. Susan and I have suffered it, too – we couldn’t have children, either, We adopted three, which mitigated things a little, but we’re still on the edge of being ostracised from polite society. As if they fear that infertility is contagious.’ He looked down at the ground. ‘It’s only these last few years, now they all think Susan’s too old…’

Donna interrupted him, her angry words tumbling out. ‘Haldoran didn’t want me as his wife if I couldn’t bear children. How could a monarch hope to rule with no heir? I was useless to him.’ She didn’t even try and stop the tears now. ‘So, he had me removed. And the bastard took my own cousin in my place. She was in his bed before my side of it even got cold. And Brittany’s a proper baby factory. She’s had half a dozen brats already. Haldoran publicly divorced me, humiliated me, lied about me…’

The Doctor shushed her, gently ‘But you weren’t to blame for any of this.’

‘Don’t you think I know that, you idiot?’ Donna screamed. ‘That’s not the point. When I came home again, everybody had heard the stories. They treated me like I had some contagious disease. My father barely speaks to me, and every man I meet looks at me like I was a leper. I can’t have any kind of a normal life any longer. That’s why my father was only too glad to allow me into knight training. This way, I’m out of the castle more than I’m home. And, with luck, I might get myself killed, and remove all embarrassment from my being alive.’

‘Nonsense,’ the Doctor said briskly. ‘Donna, most of this is simply in your own mind. Oh, I’m sure people talk about you, and doubtless enjoy it. But nobody who gets to know you would ever do the same. You’ve shown great courage. You’ve made a new life for yourself, you’ve…’

The Doctor’s platitudes trailed away as Donna turned her back on him and her voice became quiet, like a child’s. ‘When Haldoran threw me out, he promised that if I ever returned, he’d make what I’d endured before pale in comparison.’ She turned round and stared at him, panic‐stricken. ‘Doctor, he’s going to destroy my spirit! I would never live through what he’ll subject me to. That’s why you have to kill me first!’